Limbo
by Bookworm2288
Summary: It strikes him just how young she looks. He has aged a bit in the last couple of years, but he supposes you stop changing after you die. And Allison is dead. And she is standing in front of him. "Oh my God… Am I… Am I dead?"


Stiles blinks his eyes a couple of times, waiting for the bright white to turn into a clear picture. His eyes stop burning, but the white doesn't go away. White walls, white floors, white ceiling. As he looks around, he realizes that he can't tell where this room ends. He also realizes that he is standing in this blank room, which is odd because he's sure he just woke up and doesn't remember being able to sleep standing up.

"Stiles."

A soft voice interrupts his inner monologue going over the merits of his new skill. He turns and soaks in the girl in front of him. She looks exactly the same as the day she died: the flowing brown hair, the smoky eyes, the illuminating smile. She's giving him that smile now, the one that shows off all her teeth. He remembers it being so contagious, yet at this moment, all he can do is stare at her, his lips separated.

"Allison."

He breathes her name, almost a whisper. She continues to smile as if she found his uncertainty endearing. "Well, now we've established that our names haven't changed."

It strikes him just how _young_ she looks. He has aged a bit in the last couple of years, but he supposes you stop changing after you die. And Allison is dead. And she is standing in front of him.

"Oh my God… Am I… Am I dead?" A surge of panic runs through his body as names run through his head. His dad, Scott, Lydia, Melissa, Malia, Liam, Kira.

Allison's eyes widen, and she waves her hands to stop him. "Oh, no, no. You're not dead, and you're not going to die. You're in the hospital, in surgery. You're close to death, which is why I can talk to you, but you're going to recover. This is just sort of a… limbo."

Stiles nods, taking it all in. "So it's not like I have a choice or anything. This isn't an _If I Stay_ situation where I see all my memories and decide if I want to live or die." Allison shakes her head, a soft grin growing on her face. "No. You go back whether you want to or not. Although, I do have some things to show you." At his incredulous look, she quickly interjects, "Not memories. Well, sort of memories. Memories of the future."

"Hold on. We're going to travel to the future?"

"We're not going to see any flying cars or anything." Stiles makes a face.

"Well, then what's the point?" he mutters. Allison smiles at the boy—man— standing in front of her.

"It's a bit more personal than that. And they're not like actual events. They're more like, well, places. Important places. I can tell you the story behind each one."

"But you said I was going to wake up after all this. Won't you showing me my future throw off the whole space-time continuum or something?"

Allison smile turns sad. "That's the one drawback. You're not going to remember any of this." Stiles reads between the lines. He isn't going to remember her.

He takes a deep breath and nods although he's still a bit fuzzy on what's happening right now. "Alright… Alright. So, do we walk to these places or whatever? 'Cause this place looks pretty never-ending."

All of a sudden, the previously blank room transforms into a street, one that Stiles had walked down many times in downtown Beacon Hills. He turns in a circle, trying to figure out why they're here. Finally, his eyes land on the building to his right. When he was little, it had been a hair salon. Then a hardware store, then a video store, and then a bagel shop. It had been vacant for a couple of years now. Except it wasn't vacant. Across the glass window, in blue block letters are the words Stilinski Investigating Services.

Stiles reads the sign a couple of times before tentatively walking over to open the door. The first thing he sees is a desk with some paper and a computer. There isn't much else. Stiles tries to hide his disappointment, but Allison clearly sees right through him. "After you graduate from George Washington, you'll move to Boston and join a division of the FBI down there. It's not really what you're expecting though. You hate the bureaucracy that keeps you from saving lives. Plus, you have to do a lot of paperwork. So, you decide to move back home and open up your own company. This," she gestures to the bland room, "is just the front. You take a couple of cases from wives with cheating husbands and adopted kids trying to find their biological parents, but most of your work is back here." She walks behind the desk and opens up a door that he hadn't noticed.

At first glance, it looks like complete chaos with paper, markers, and yarn strewn across the room. Then, Stiles recognized his own organization system. There are rows of white boards, each with its own heading. _One for each case_ , he realizes.

There's also the back wall. The entire wall is one big cork board, completely covered with green, yellow, and red.

Looking at it more closely, Stiles realizes what this is. "These are all supernatural cases."

Allison nods. "Your expertise in the topic wasn't of much use to the FBI, which was one of the reasons that you decided to quit."

Stiles can't stop looking around, trying to take it all in. This is his dream. Well, the FBI had been his dream. This is a dream he didn't know about.

His eyes only stop sweeping over all the evidence when he hears Allison clear her throat. "I hate to interrupt, but I have something else to show you. I want to make sure we don't run out of time."

His curiosity peaked, Stiles walks over to Allison's side. Again, the setting begins to transform.

The new room is smaller and much more organized. His eyebrows raise when he comprehends where he's standing. It's a nursery.

The walls are a soothing green, and there's a white crib with a matching glider chair and changing table.

Stiles slowly approaches the crib. His heart sinks when he realizes it's empty. Allison comes up from behind him and wraps a hand around his waist. "Sorry, you have to wait a little bit longer to met her."

Stiles startles. "Her? A girl?"

Allison grins broadly. "A beautiful little girl." Stiles gently breaks away from Allison's grasp to explore this little utopia. He notices a book in the glider chair and picks it up. He feels his heart jump at the sight of the mermaid on the cover.

Allison joins him. "You name her after me. Me and your mom. Allison Claudia Stilinski." Stiles pretends not to notice the way Allison's eyes shine with tears.

Allison takes a deep breath and collects herself. "She grows up to be so talented. Somehow, despite your genes, she grows up to be a star athlete. She gets a full scholarship for softball and even plays professionally in New York after she graduates. Believe it or not, women's softball is even more popular than men's baseball by the time she reaches that level."

It's odd that Stiles can feel so proud of a child that doesn't even exist yet. His child, his _daughter_ will grow up right here, in this room.

Allison walks over to the door, and Stiles wants to object. He's not ready to leave this perfect little niche.

"Don't worry," she assures him. "Our next destination isn't far." Stiles reluctantly joins her. Instead of a magical transformation though, they simply walk into a hall. Allison walks down a little ways with Stiles trailing behind. She opens up a door identical to the one they had just walked out of.

Once Stiles got a clear view of this room, he realizes that it's more or less the same as the previous one. The set up is a bit different and the walls are blue instead of green, but it is still very much a child's bedroom.

Stiles is able to gather himself quicker this time and turns to Allison. "A boy?" She nods.

"A few years later, you take another little bundle of joy home from the hospital."

A horrifying thought suddenly crosses Stiles' mind. "Oh God, we didn't name him after me did we?"

Allison laughs. "No. Before any of your children were born, you told Scott to call Child Protective Services if you ever even thought of naming an innocent child Mieczyslaw." Stiles breathes a sigh of relief. He never could have forgiven himself if he had condemned a child like that.

"So if my first child becomes a professional athlete, does my second kid become president? Do I have more kids? Is the entire world just dominated by Stilinskis?"

"Fortunately, no. You only have the two. Although this one certainly isn't a disappointment. He's as smart as his mother, just in a different way. He's not as good with numbers, but it's clear that he has a gift when he puts pen to paper. He'll beg you for bedtime stories. And when he's older, he'll travel around the world, covering all the news. When everyone eventually finds out about the whole supernatural creatures thing, he's the first one to break the story, the first one to interview a werewolf. Of course, he had an advantage considering he'd known his entire life and that werewolf was his uncle."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… people know about the supernatural in the future?"

"Yeah, but not for a couple decades. It's a big ordeal at first, but after awhile, people are cool."

Without warning, Stiles eyesight turns to black, and everything is silent. He blinks a few times and Allison comes back into focus.

She looks at him intently. "We're running out of time." She grasps Stiles' hand, and once again, the entire area is transforming.

This time, they're in a place that Stiles recognizes all too well.

It's the exact spot where Allison took her final breath.

Stiles just looks at Allison, waiting, unsure what to say. She's silent for a moment before looking him square in the eyes. "I know that I said we weren't going to take a waltz down memory lane, but I made an exception. This is where I spent my last moment with Scott, and I want to have my last moment with you here. I want to tell you the same thing I told him: it's okay."

She takes a breath and continues, "I know that ever since I died, you've believed that it was somehow your fault, that you could've stopped it. You're wrong." She pauses to let him digest this. "It was not your fault. I do not blame you." She enunciates each word, hoping that he'll catch on.

Stiles stays silent, suddenly unable to look at her.

Allison nods in resignation. "I also know that you don't believe me when I say that. So I want to give you something else. Something I don't think is necessary, but something that I know you need."

She takes his hands into her own and forces him to look at her. "I forgive you."

"Allison… I… I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry… So sorry."

She shakes her head. "I know, Stiles. I know. But that's just it. I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to be happy. You, Scott, Lydia, everyone. I just want you to be happy. That's how I want you to honor me. I want you to have everything I just showed you. So, please, for me, be happy."

* * *

A few weeks later, Stiles is walking through a bookstore where he's had some luck finding information about various supernatural creatures. Scott has temporarily "benched" him, saying he needs to focus on recovering, but that doesn't stop Stiles from researching.

On his way out, his eyes fall onto a copy of _The Little Mermaid_ , and for some reason, the book looks familiar.


End file.
